A Vital Scrap of Education
by the queen of slurking
Summary: Harry tries to tell Fred and George the real identity of the Marauders. Minerva tries to stop him.


**A Vital Scrap of Education**

**A/N: still don't own anything.**

"Fred! George!" Harry called to his housemates towards the end of his third year.

The twins stopped walking and turned to him, identical expressions of curiosity etched on their faces. Harry skipped forwards to catch them up and linked his elbows through theirs, dragging them off to a near classroom and muttering about vital information.

Once inside the classroom he lounged on the teacher's desk and indicated that they should sit down. Confused, they did.

"You may be wondering why I've called you here today," he announced. His tone was solemn and his face was equally so, and they wondered if he was about to impart some bad news. Maybe he'd heard something about Voldemort.

In the perfect unison they were known for, they agreed that they did wonder.

Just as Harry was opening his mouth to speak, Professor McGonagall swooped in, snapped, rather cryptically they thought, at Harry to _say nothing or detention._

Harry looked annoyed for all of two minutes before his face cleared. He gave Fred and George a sunny smile and danced out, pausing to greet Peeves as he headed down towards the Great Hall.

The twins shrugged it off, figuring they could get it out of Harry at lunch. During lunch, they quickly snagged the seats either side of him, wondering what he was about to say. Unfortunately, none of the boys had noticed the tabby cat sitting on the bench opposite.

Harry opened his mouth, but he'd barely had time to draw breath before the cat leaped off the bench and transformed. Professor McGonagall stood opposite them, arms crossed and eyeing Harry beadily.

Quite sensibly, he shut up.

The next morning was Quidditch practise, and the twins were sure they would get it out of him. As they clustered around him, a piece of parchment folded in the shape of an airplane flew between them and started chasing George across the pitch. Fred and Harry looked around for the culprit, finally noticing Professor McGonagall perched on a broom by the hoops.

Three days later and Harry still hadn't managed to tell Fred and George what it was he'd wanted to. He began to suspect that Professor McGonagall had spies in the castle: one morning, the portrait nearby began singing Christmas songs so loudly that Peeves was drawn to the racket. He had then begun singing along and dancing, making enough chaos that the boys fled to escape the noise.

Another time, they'd been in an abandoned classroom about to start talking, when Nearly Headless Nick drifted in and told Harry that he had a detention with Professor Snape. Harry didn't remember getting a detention, but played along with it anyway.

Thirty cauldrons later, Harry was fed up. This time, he'd try coded messages.

The first message went well enough, until Professor Flitwick intercepted it and took it to Professor McGonagall, who charmed the note to fly itself into the Great Lake, where the Giant Squid ate it.

The following notes were no better received. One morning Harry was trying to slip the note into one of George's textbooks; unluckily, Professor Sprout caught him and buried the note under seventy feet of earth.

Finally, Harry decided to write it on separate slips of paper, creating a sort of treasure hunt around the castle until Fred and George had found all the papers.

Even that didn't work, as the portraits reported to Professor McGonagall about the papers and she intercepted them before Fred or George could.

Another day or two later, Harry tried to catch them up to finally explain; before he did, Professor McGonagall leaped out from behind a tapestry and took eighteen points from Gryffindor.

It was beginning to look like intercepting Harry and stopping him telling the twins whatever he wanted to say was taking its toll on Professor McGonagall. She had been more irritable and taken to taking more and more points from students.

At some point she'd taken to stalking the halls in her Animagus form, pouncing on anyone she thought was up to no good. She'd begun sacrificing sleep, convinced that she was devoted to the cause of a peaceful year at Hogwarts.

One night Harry realized his best strategy yet. He would lie low and lull her into a false sense of security. Once she'd stopped monitoring everything that went on, he would catch up with the twins and explain. He considered it lucky that they would especially appreciate this vital piece of information.

Probably they'd think that it was vital to one's education to know this.

The days ticked by. Professor McGonagall stopped sweeping around corners and eyeing people suspiciously, preferring now to watch them as if she expected a riot to break out.

Finally, Harry managed to catch up to the twins. He knew Professor McGonagall wouldn't be expecting it; she was currently out of the castle and couldn't do anything to stop it.

Harry took his seat on top of the desk, feeling a bit of déjà vu as he took in the curious expressions on the twins' faces.

"This is about the Marauders."

Those simple words, and Fred fell off his chair. George leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desktop so tightly Harry wondered if bits of wood and splinters would start falling to the ground.

"Moony is Professor Lupin."

Now George fell off his chair.

"Padfoot is my godfather. Sirius Black."

The twins, who had just managed to recover themselves, gripped hold of the desk and scrambled back into their chairs, gazing at Harry as if he was Merlin himself.

"Prongs was my dad."

Just then, Professor McGonagall ran into the room. Her eyes were wild, her hair was coming loose from its bun and her robes were dishevelled. She scanned the room, as if looking for something, and then her eyes came to rest on her students.

The three of them were huddled over a piece of parchment, and as she watched in terror, they straightened up. One look at their faces and she knew.

_Fred and George Weasley knew who the Marauders were._

With that thought in mind, she did the only sensible thing she could.

She fainted.


End file.
